The herbal mix for the morning after, to end a pregnancy before it has begun.
Still weighing my desire versus my responsibility, Archer tweaks my nipple, gaining my attention and a small moan.
With a smirk, he asks, “I can be careful, but if you want to end things here, I understand. I can go to the apothecary tomorrow to get protection.”
I love that he leaves the decision up to meanddoesn’t put the pressure on me to be better prepared next time.
“I want you,” I tell him and wrap my arms around his waist, pulling more of his weight down onto me. “I can take the morning after elixir.”
He nods. “We’ll still be careful.”
My legs wrap around his legs, sliding further up until I reach his waist. The new position lines his tip up to my pussy perfectly.
“Yeah, oka—” The words cut off on a loud moan.
Getting the verbal consent he needed, Archer doesn’t waste a second, sliding into me with a husky, “fuck.”
I’m soaking wet, but he’s long and thick, only pushing in a couple inches before pulling out and thrusting his hips again. He takes his time, not pushing me past a point of painful pleasure, but it never hurts. The entire time he squeezes my breast with one hand and uses the other to hold the nape of my neck while he kisses me.
His lips are possessive, never letting me stray far. Not even when I try to tilt my head to the side to moan when his cock hits a deep, sensitive part that has gone untouched until this moment. He holds me in place, letting my feral need ghost against his lips as I cry out.
He doesn’t move from that spot for a few seconds, other than the light pump of his hips causing him to brush against that spot over and over and over again.
“Archer,” I cry out, clawing at his back. “Please—I can’t take it.”
“Mmm,” he hums against my skin. My breath pants against his cheek and he licks a slow path to my earlobe. With a teasing bite, he whispers, “You can and youwill.”
“Fuck, oh god,” I scream when he quickly snaps his hips backward before pushing all the way inside of me.
“Fuck all the Gods,” he growls and roughly grabs my jaw. He’s buried to the hilt but not moving yet—like he’s giving me time to adjust to him. A thrill runs through me in anticipation of what happens after.
He squeezes my cheeks until my eyes are focused back on his. “They’ve never done anything for us—so it’s just us. Me and you.” With a possessive glint in his eye that makes me clench around him, he demands, “I don’t want to hear another name out of that pretty mouth while I’m fucking you.”
My mouth opens, happy—eager—to do what he says when he finally moves. Seeming to decide I’m adjusted enough, he pulls out to the tip before snapping his hips forward in a punishing thrust.
It’s rough and possessive and so fucking good.
“Archer,” I mewl, and I’m rewarded with fast and hard thrusts.
“That’s it, Little Wisp,” he praises and rises to a kneeling position over me. In a quick move, he slips his arms under my legs, opening me wider for him and grabbing the globes of my ass as he continues moving inside of me.
My bottom half raises off the bed and uses the new hold to move my hips with his, meeting him pump for pump. Each more carnal than the last.
I reach to grab onto his arm, anything to anchor me to him as my climax rapidly builds.
With a smug tilt of his lips, he blows out a soft breath, and my hand snaps onto the pillow above me. My other quickly follows.
I’m held firmly in place, but his hands are still on my ass. The phantom grip—as soft as a summer breeze but as strong as a hurricane—holds my other hand in place and tightens.
My mouth drops open as I scoff and look at him, frustration and desire mixing in my expression.
“Just you wait,” I threaten. It only makes him smile and pick up speed. “Fuck.”
“Stop being a brat,” he growls and slaps my ass cheek, “and fucking come for me again.”
I want to fight him—make him work harder for it. But I can’t.
Not when he has me fully under his mercy. When he knows exactly what I need, how to fuck me in a way I’ve needed, but never found with someone else.
